


The Right Combination of Drugs

by nhpw



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Background Poly, Bottom Jensen, Boys Kissing, Coming Untouched, Dry Orgasm, Flirting on set, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling, Slow Build, Smut, Top Misha, emotional bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 12:19:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6469837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nhpw/pseuds/nhpw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I want to do something for you tonight.”</p><p>Jensen laughed. “What, like make me dinner?”</p><p>Misha just shook his head. “I want to bring you pleasure, with no expectation that you’ll reciprocate.”</p><p>“What's the catch?”</p><p>Misha's face slid slowly into a wolfish grin. “You have to let me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Right Combination of Drugs

**Author's Note:**

> **THERE IS NOTHING ABOUT DRUGS IN THIS STORY AT ALL** No drugs, no drug use, no drug references. Nothing. Unless you count Misha, who is Jensen's drug and gives him a natural high. No drugs.
> 
> There is, however, lots and lots and lots (and lots) of porn. This is nearly 19,000 words of flat-out, unapologetic Cockles PWP. Referenced/background JMDV polyamory, because Vicki and Danneel are adorable but it didn't make a lot of sense for them to be there for this particular hookup. Unbata-ed; mistakes are mine.
> 
> Enjoy!

“I want to do something for you tonight.”

Jensen laughed. “What, like make me dinner?”

Misha just shook his head. “I want to bring you pleasure, with no expectation that you’ll reciprocate.”

“What's the catch?”

Misha's face slid slowly into a wolfish grin. “You have to let me.”

“Anytime, Baby. I let you pleasure me all the time. Unless that blowjob last night was strictly because you like the taste of my cum.” It was meant to be a confident quip, maybe a flirtation, but it rode in on a nervous laugh and an even more nervous smile.

The grin stayed in place and to complement it, Misha’s eyes darkened a notch. “I’m not talking about just sucking you off, J. I’m not talking about a handjob in your trailer, hell, I’m not even talking about bending over so you can have my ass between takes and not get me off. I’m talking about pure… unadulterated… pleasure.” With each ot the last three words, he pecked a kiss into Jensen’s neckline. “From me, to you. I want to lay you back and take you apart piece by piece, Jensen, and I want to handcraft your orgasm so that when it comes, it rumbles up from the tips of your toes.” His laugh was even darker than his eyes, and he crowded himself into Jensen’s space, grinding just slightly against the younger man’s hip before leaning in to nip at his right ear, then lick the outer shell of it.

“Fuck, Misha…” He was already starting to unhinge; Misha’s words, Misha’s closeness, Misha’s scent… fucking _Misha_ was stringing him up like a fucking marionette doll, and Misha Collins was the puppet master, bringing his art to life. Jensen’s breath was coming in ragged draws and they were still fully dressed with at least another three hours of filming to do tonight. Dean Winchester and Castiel were shelved for this interlude but both men were still in wardrobe, they were in the open air of a location shoot, and Misha’s face was decorated with gore, courtesy of their makeup department. And he was still making Jensen weak in all the right places. He had that way about him, and it simply wasn’t fair.

Not that Jensen ever wanted him to stop. Like, ever.

Fuck no.

“Your eyes are dilated as fuck, Dean,” he growled in his Castiel voice and _fuck_ if that didn’t just make it worse. As a rule Castiel didn’t swear, but on the other hand, curses uttered in Castiel’s voice were about the sexiest thing Jensen had ever heard. “You look like you’ve been getting high. Tsk tsk.” The admonishment was punctuated with a single slap on Jensen’s ass before Misha moved away, whistling to himself.

“Hey what--!”

Misha just spun on the spot, flashing Jensen a Lucifer Face and wiggling his eyebrows. “You know, Dean, if we’re going to have a working relationship, you really are going to need to learn to control your raging boner for Castiel.” A flash of an evil smile and his back was to Jensen once again, hands in his pockets as he sauntered back toward the set.

“Fucking cocktease!” Jensen hollered after him, but all he got was a cursory wave of a hand in his direction.

Fucking Misha.

One thing about the man, though, was that he never made promises he didn’t fully intend to keep. If Misha said he was going to blow him away, he meant it.

He shook his head and ran up to borrow a pen and a piece of paper from the 2nd AD  - “It’s for science,” and that was as good an explanation as any - and scribbled a note, which he promptly shoved deep in his pocket before stalking back onto the set.

“One minute to mark, everybody. Background…” The director’s voice put Jensen on autopilot, but before he took his mark, he walked up to Misha and gave him a pointed look with raised eyebrows while slapping the note into his palm.

Misha read it and smirked, eyes dark with Lucifer-level intent before he licked his lips and gave a barely perceivable nod.

He handed the note back to Jensen just as there was an audible, “Jensen, Misha, let’s wrap it up, please,” from direction and the unmistakable cackle of Jared Padalecki filling Jensen’s ears as he strode to take his mark.

“And we’re rolling in five-”

“You know Dean’s got a huge boner right now.”

“Four -”

“Shut up.”

“Three-”

“Taste the rainbow, Jackles. Taste the fucking--”

“Shut -”

“Two -” The one-count would be silent; always was.

“Up.” He squeaked it out and cleared his throat in the millisecond before the marker dropped.

Damn if Dean Winchester wouldn’t be wearing a self-satisfied smirk when this scene went to print.

***

“You think you were being cute.”

“Oh, I don’t think it. I know it.”

“We’ll see.” Misha wiggled his eyebrows as he sauntered up to Jensen and pulled him into a kiss with the confidence of a longtime lover, immediately seeking out melting points with his hands. He danced his fingers in the sensitive line under both ass cheeks in tandem as he backed Jensen up against a wall. Once they were there, all bets were off.

Both hands squeezed and caressed and Jensen mewled into his mouth, but Misha refused to let up. He swallowed the sound and lapped up its remnants with little swipes of his tongue. “I’m gonna have you begging,” he promised. “And you’ll cum on my command, just as the first rays of sunlight dance across your face.”

“It’s three a.m.,” Jensen whined as Misha’s mouth started a slow line of kisses along his jawline.

“Mmmhmmm. Saddle up, Cowboy.” He indulged in moving an inch of the collar of Jensen’s t-shirt aside so he could suck at a randomly selected spot on his lover’s shoulder. “I like this spot,” he murmured before going at it again.

Jensen had to do something. He wasn’t panicking, but he wasn’t relaxed, either. Misha had just threatened to make him wait more than three hours to get off. _Three hours_. Fucking hell, nobody could do that, and the idea that Misha might actually try was making Jensen’s insides do all kinds of crazy things. The older man was planting a flag with his tongue on that spot on Jensen’s shoulder, to begin with, and they were both still wearing all of their clothes.

Yes. Clothes. That was part of the problem, and it was easily rectifiable. He brought his hands away from where they’d been flat-palmed against the wall at his thighs and used his fingers to brush away Misha’s leather jacket, leaving only the t-shirt underneath. Misha allowed the initial removal, but when Jensen fingered the waistband fabric and started to untuck the t-shirt, he found himself cut off by a strong grip.

“Nuh uh.” Misha didn’t even look up from his task. He simply blocked Jensen’s hands en route while continuing to suck at the spot. But after Jensen surrendered and lowered his arms, Misha did back off to blow a stream of cold air on the glistening skin before moving his mouth two millimeters to the left. He didn’t reattach his whole mouth; he just let the tickly tip of his tongue tango along the line of the shoulder. Jensen had just closed his eyes and leaned his head back when Misha got to the right scapula - and sunk his teeth in.

“Jesus Christ!” He groaned and jutted his hips out on impulse, and Misha just chuckled under his breath.

“Pay attention,” he tisked, and nipped at the tender skin again.

“Ah! I’m paying attention, you motherfucker.”

At that, Misha paused and tilted his chin a bit, considering. “I am a motherfucker,” he agreed after a moment. “Also a fatherfucker. I’m an… equal-opportunity fucker.” To conclude his point, he captured Jensen’s mouth in a kiss once again. “And you talk too much. I’m trying to pleasure you. Shut up.” His mouth found a target on the other side, this time licking up the incline of Jensen’s neck before seeking out a spot that mirrored his earlier claim and going to work on it in a similar manner.

“Mish _aaa_.” It came out as a choked whimper and Jensen bounced his knees a bit in protest; the truth was, his legs weren’t doing a very good job of holding him up for the onslaught.

He felt more than saw the arm that came around his back to prop him up. The cursory, “I got you,” came out in a hot breath exchanged mouth-to-mouth, and finally, blessedly, he felt Misha’s fingers tugging at the bottom of his shirt. He didn’t remove it, but he did let his hands up under the fabric to explore - or rather revisit. This was well-mapped territory. Misha didn’t need the shirt off to find Jensen’s nipples and pinch them both in tandem.

 _Of course_ Misha would go after his nipples, and he probably didn’t plan to make it a quick stop, either. The first pinches were playful and experimental, and Jensen hissed and arched to try to get more of _that_ kind of touch, and Misha obliged, pinching again, quickly, playfully, this time in a rhythm that bounced from right to left and back again until Jensen was humming along.

And then Misha hiked the shirt up, ducked his head, and bit.

“Ahhh!”

“Shhh.” His tongue followed, lapping up the zings of pain and sucking them into his mouth. He blew cold air across the puckered skin, then circled the nipple with an expert tongue, taking care to stay on the ring of the areola and never touch the tender bud - which just made Jensen ache more for the missing touch. He whined and bucked and Misha’s free hand - the left hand, the one not currently busy holding Jensen’s shirt aloft - gripped his hip and strong-armed his midsection back against the wall.

In the melee, his tongue never deviated from its task. “You said you were going to pleasure me. Not torture me. Jesus Christ!”

“It’s a fine line.” Misha sucked the same nipple into his mouth again. He didn’t bite this time - just sucked and swirled his tongue around the nub - but Jensen could feel his body weakening and surrendering to the onslaught with every passing second. “Don’t fight, J. Let me hear you.”

His voice was so strained, so… _raw_ that it reached into Jensen’s gut and pulled out a strangled cry, which earned a “hmmm” of praise from his partner. “See? So much easier.” And Misha abandoned the nipples and kissed a slowly burning trail up Jensen’s sternum and then his neck - tiny kisses over sweat-beaded skin in a straight line and never straying from said line, but making sure not to miss a single millimeter of skin. “OK,” he breathed against Jensen’s lips when he reached them, and then planted a kiss there, “I’m going to move us to the bed, because you’re getting heavy. Don’t mistake that for an escalation.”

Jensen couldn’t help it. He whimpered and pressed his pelvis forward to grind his clothed erection against Misha’s. The scrape of denim on denim was rough but delicious in the millisecond before Misha grabbed hold of both of Jensen’s hands with knitted fingers and strong armed him in the direction of the bedroom. They fell gracefully onto the bed at the foot of it, with Jensen’s knees bent over the threshold and his feet still on the floor. “Mish,” he breathed. “Please.”

“All in good time.” Misha pulled up enough to show Jensen his twinkling eyes and just held him like that, clasped hands and leaned over the edge of the bed while looking down with a soft smile and a mischievous glint in his in his bottomless blues, that Jensen got lost between his own head and Misha’s eyes. He was transfixed - studying or being studied, he wasn’t sure. Probably a little of both. “You’re beautiful.” Misha finally broke the silence, but he didn’t move.

“I can’t… You’ve got my head spinnin’, Mish.”

“I know. I promised, didn’t I?”

“Please?”

Misha didn’t respond with words. He let go of Jensen’s hands and sat up enough to remove his own shirt and then motioned for the younger man to scoot fully up onto the bed. The silent request was met with ready compliance and Misha crawled on top of Jensen’s prone body, securing his lover in the circle of his arms and giving him a broad smile before diving forward for a hungry kiss. In a sudden change-up, he attacked, licking out the inside of Jensen’s mouth with a talented tongue as his hips ground down on his lover’s. For a blissful few minutes Misha let the beast out and Jensen reveled in long, deep kisses mixed with harsh, biting ones; in the heavenly feel of Misha’s obvious bulge frotting against his own.

He lost track of time in the onslaught, but that was just fine. Moments like this had their own timeline - animalistic and beautiful and soft and harsh and made entirely of intangible things. So after a length of time of which Jensen had no Earthly concept, he felt so entirely high that it was only when he swiped his tongue through cold, empty air that he realized Misha had shifted south to kneel between Jensen’s legs, and his fingers were paused at the button on Jensen’s jeans.

“I do love unwrapping you,” Misha mumbled, more to Jensen’s crotch than his person. He lowered the zipper to reveal the boxer black boxer briefs underneath, and when he mouthed the shaft through the cotton, Jensen nearly lost it. The sound he made was a yelp, likely the result of his brain short-circuiting as his hips arched up without any consultation with his brain. He simply knew he needed more of whatever Misha was doing and God, fuck, that mouth was blowing hot air through the fabric and it was too much. It was fucking too much.

Jensen fisted the sheets and threw his head back. “Just fucking _suck me_!” He exploded, louder and more harshly than he really meant to.

But Misha was undeterred. He simply hummed around his clothed prize and licked a bit at the precum that was leaking through. “And I do so love wrecking you.” His self-satisfied chuckle translated to a warm vibration right up Jensen’s vas deferens. “But I promised to make this last, hmmm?” He sat up a bit, moved his mouth away, and traced the outline of Jensen’s erection through the fabric with the nail of his right index finger. He repeated the motion as Jensen commenced a steady whining and whimpering.

On the third route, he licked a flat tongue up Jensen’s shaft.

“Fuuuuuck _mee-eee_ …” But really, he didn’t want that, exactly. He wanted Misha’s mouth to find its target. He wanted Misha to work his throat the way he knew Misha knew how. He wanted to shoot his load down that throat and have Misha grin up at him with a bead of release still on his lips.

“‘S not my plan to right now, unless it’s what you need. Remember, this isn’t about me.”

“Nngggg…”

“Right now I’m turning you into a puddle. But… I’ll have to remember… for the future… how easily you turn into a slut when I make you wait.” On those words Misha’s mouth closed around the naked head of Jensen’s cock, and stars exploded across the younger man’s brain.

Jensen had just enough brain cells functioning to tell his hands to move up and rest on the back of Misha’s head as his lover set to work. Really, Misha gave the most amazing head Jensen had ever received, and that was saying something, because Danneel and Vicki were both pretty fucking fantastic. But Misha took the cake. His tongue was not only freakishly long, but was also strong and precise. And Misha dedicated himself to giving a blowjob like he was an artist working at his craft: No half-measures, no missteps. Everything about every swipe of that glorious tongue was intentional, and he had the stamina to keep up a slow burn for longer than any partner Jensen had ever had.

He was also frighteningly good at reading a person’s body language, even when his face was buried in their crotch.

Jensen had barely tensed his abdomen in anticipation of barreling toward an orgasm when Misha let up with one last, flat-tongued lick up the underside. Jensen’s dick was so sensitive, he swore he felt every single one of Misha’s taste buds. And such were his thoughts when the sensation shifted and he felt a cool stream of air being blown on his asshole.

He bucked and screamed but Misha just waited for him to settle again before sucking the right testicle into his mouth. He hummed on the soft pouch and shifted to the left without ever lifting his head, and as he hummed again, Jensen’s knees lifted up instinctively as he felt himself being penetrated. One strong, digit slid inside his body and Jensen canted his hips to take it deep, not knowing or caring when the fuck Misha had taken time to lube his fingers.

The finger crooked to brush his prostate, and Jensen was certain, in that moment, that he had died.

In his heaven, there was clearly gay sex with Misha, and infinite pleasure. He couldn’t see; he couldn’t hear; he couldn’t taste or smell. He could only feel, and feel he did, in a way he’d never felt before. Every single nerve in his body tingled - not with fire or need, but with euphoria, like he was floating on a cloud. He wanted to stay here and feel like this forever.

“I remember the first time you ever came for me.” Misha’s voice floated to him like music from somewhere far away. “It wasn’t at all like this. Fuck, we’d both been sitting on the desire so long, it was all kind of a big bumbling mess. You remember? Dani had your head in her lap, and she was looking down at you in complete awe, like she’d never seen your pleasure from quite that angle before. And I suppose she hadn’t. God, that night… the way you turned to Jell-o in my hands. I was nervous. Can you believe it? I wanted to make it so good for you…”

“It was,” Jensen mumbled, surprised at his ability to find his voice through the pleasant haze filling his brain.

“I’m glad. And this… will be another first. You’re going to have an orgasm just on my fingers. I’m not going to touch your cock. I’m going to touch you inside… so intimately that your body is going to give in and crumble for me. Just like this.”

“Can’t…”

“Yes, you can.”

“Mish…”

There was a shifting and then Misha was covering his body, kissing him slowly and deeply, like a lover who had all the time in the world. “Open your eyes, J. Look at me.” Jensen could only whimper and buck his hips against Misha’s beautiful assault, but then his voice said again, “Come on, Jensen. Wanna look in your eyes, Baby. Want you to see the love in mine.”

He couldn’t recall a time when he’d struggled quite this much to do something so simple as open his eyelids and let the light in, but when he did, there were Misha’s beautiful blue pools reflecting right back at him. And Jensen couldn’t take it.

He felt the tears begin to fall - identical single tears down each temple, and a choked-out sob that made Misha smile softly at him. He felt a bit fuller in the next beat - Misha must have added another finger - and then the slow, sure tingle of the ghost of an orgasm beginning in the tips of his toes. “Misha…”

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Ssso good…”

“Don’t fight it, Jensen.”

Jensen whined and sobbed again, throwing his head back as the slow creep of tingling pleasure tightened his knees and climbed to his thighs. And Misha, in turn, kissed him again to swallow the sound before nuzzling him nose-to-nose. “Iiiiii…”

“I love you. So. Much.”

The climax exploded through every cell of Jensen’s being. It wasn’t a sexual release, but an emotional one, so intensely personal and passionate that the aftershocks rolled through his brain and his heart more than his groin. Misha continued to massage his prostate through the orgasm and before Jensen knew what was happening, his body was seizing up again, climbing a new ledge and tumbling over into a second orgasm, smaller than the first but still unparalleled to any release he’d ever had.

Only when Misha withdrew his fingers and slipped away quickly to wash his hands did Jensen come down enough to realize his cock was still hard.

“What… how…?”

“You have the most adorable confused face I’ve ever seen,” Misha replied with a wide grin, wiping his hands on a towel and climbing back between Jensen’s legs. “How do you think we should resolve this?” Jensen attempted a response, but it came out in a made-up language that just made Misha laugh. “Maybe multiple choice would be better. Would you like me to fuck you? Or suck you off? You’re prepped; the entry won’t kill your buzz. I’m happy to oblige in either case.”

He found the words somewhere at the bottom of the knot of need that still sat in his belly, despite two dry orgasms. “Love me, please.”

The raised eyebrows he got in response said it was even better than Misha had expected, and the older man tucked up Jensen’s knees to his chest before lining up and pushing inside. He bottomed out in one slow motion and paused a moment before starting a gentle, rolling rhythm. Once they settled in, Misha met him mouth-to-mouth once more, kissing lazily, leisurely, hands wandering with no real destination until they suddenly clasped both of Jensen’s hands in knitted grips at the headboard. And so they stayed, a steady tide of rising and falling and in and out, heaving chests growing slick with sweat until Jensen couldn’t take the slowness anymore and bucked up in an effort to take more, deeper, harder.

“Now you’re gonna cum,” Misha mumbled against his lips, but it was shaky; he was close, too. “And I’m gonna fill you up.”

“So good…”

“Ready, J?”

“Please…”

Misha reached between them to fist Jensen’s cock, and it was over in two strokes - Jensen exploding over Misha’s fist, and Misha letting go inside, thrusting three more times, hard, and the last one drawing a gasp and squirm from Jensen as the onslaught hit his overstimulated prostate. “Fuck. Fuck!”

Misha took one moment of solace and softening inside his lover before pulling out completely and retreating to the bathroom for a quick clean-up.

Jensen was so near to sleep that he barely felt the weight of his lover returning to the bed. But his body shifted instinctively to cuddle into Misha’s warmth, and he accepted a chaste kiss as it was pressed to his brow. “So, Mr. ‘Passing Notes in Class.’ I trust this met your expectations?”

“Mmmff,” Jensen replied, pulling Misha closer and earning him a soft chuckle and a pet of his hair. “A-plus-plus. Would fuck again.” He offered a thumbs-up with his left hand, and that brought out a full-on easy laugh from Misha. “Hey. Who’s gonna have a more obvious boner in the dailies tomorrow? Dean or Lucifer?”

“If we’re lucky? Both.”

“Mine will be your fault.”

“Hey! Likewise, you asshole.”

Misha just laughed again and turned to embrace his partner, kissing him slow and deep. And Jensen melted instinctively into the warmth of the kiss, pulling Misha so close he could feel the other man’s heartbeat against his own. “Sun’s coming up.”

“Yeah well, you promised, didn’t you?”

“I always make good on my promises.”

“You do.”

“Come home with me this weekend? Vicki and the kids have been asking about you. We could… I dunno. Gish something.”

“That sounds dirty.”

“Only if you want it to be.”

“You kidding me? With you two? I always want it to be.” He cuddled his head to Misha’s chest and closed his eyes. “Mish?”

“Hmmm?”

“I love you.”

“Love you too, J. Love you so fucking much.”

“Mmmmgna pass out now.”

The last thing Jensen remembered was the chuckle that bubbled up from Misha’s chest, and he knew his lover would sleep the night with a smile on his face. “Goodnight, Beautiful.” A warm pair of arms enveloped him and, as the sun climbed into the sky, Jensen and Misha fell into a shared dreamless sleep.


End file.
